


Strange Bedfellows

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: This is set during PoA, after the incident in which Sirius gets into Gryffindor Tower.





	Strange Bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2004.

He was locked out. Again. 

Ever since he’d lost the list of passwords, Neville had been forced to wait outside the Gryffindor dorm for someone to come along and let him in. Most of the time, it wasn’t a problem, but at certain times of the day r11; or in this case, night r11; he was in for a long wait. 

If he’d thought about it beforehand, he would have got someone to go with him to the library, but he didn’t like studying potions around other people. He was embarrassed at how difficult it was for him, especially since it seemed so much easier for everyone else, even Ron who never studied if he could avoid it and wasn’t particularly clever. Harry tried to make him feel better once by pointing out that Seamus had similar troubles in Charms, but while Neville appreciated the thought, it wasn’t quite the same. Flitwick never made fun of anyone, even when they blew things up. 

He waited in front of the portrait for half an hour, but no one else came along, and he was beginning to resign himself to a night spent in the corridor when it struck him: he didn’t have to stay right there all night. He could sleep in one of the classrooms; the benches would be hard, but better than the cold stone floor, and there would be a fire as well. 

The question was, which classroom? The Transfiguration classroom might do, but he didn’t think Professor McGonagall would be very sympathetic if she found him in the morning, and he didn’t want to be the cause of more points being taken from Gryffindor. The Defense classroom, though… It was close by, it was warm, and Neville thought Professor Lupin would be understanding enough to not punish Neville too harshly if he was caught. 

Pleased with his plan, Neville gathered up his books and headed to the Defense classroom. The torches flared to life, as did the fireplace, when he walked in, and he dropped his things on a table and was about to pull a bench closer to the hearth when he glanced up and noticed light coming from inside Professor Lupin’s office. 

He froze, suddenly terrified. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that Professor Lupin might be in there? The smart thing to do would be to grab his stuff and run, but where was he to go? Back to the corridor? Steeling himself, he crossed the room and climbed the steps up to Professor Lupin’s office. At least this way, he could ask Professor Lupin to get in touch with Professor McGonagall, and someone could let him in. It would be humiliating, and he might get in trouble, but at least he could sleep in his own bed. 

But when he peered into the office, there was no sign of Professor Lupin. Curious and a little nervous, he stepped inside, looking around, and he spotted a large black dog nosing the threadbare scarf draped carelessly over the back of the chair behind the desk. Breathing a sigh of relief, Neville moved closer. He didn’t think the school allowed students to bring dogs, and this one looked large and dangerous, which meant it had to be one of Hagrid’s cowardly sweethearts. 

“Hullo, there.” Neville smiled at the dog and held out one hand; it jerked its head up as if startled and bared its teeth for a moment, but then it trotted over and sniffed his hand obligingly. Neville patted its head and scratched behind its ears. “What are you doing inside the castle?” 

The dog seemed to stiffen a little at that, its hackles raising, but Neville continued scratching, happily oblivious. “Aren’t you supposed to be outside with Hagrid?” he asked, and the dog gave a little sigh, relaxing under his hand again. “Are you hungry?” He ran his hand along the dog’s side, feeling the bump of its ribcage; it looked skinny and underfed, and he began digging in his pockets. “You must be new,” he said. “Hagrid’s still fattening you up, isn’t he. Is that why you came inside? You were looking for food?” 

He pulled out a bun left over from dinner and broke it in half, offering one half to the dog, who barely bothered to chew it. “I kept this for a snack, but studying potions kills my appetite.” 

The dog snorted wetly as if it understood and was amused before snatching the other half of the bun when Neville held it out on his flattened palm. 

“I have some sweets, too, but I don’t think those are good for dogs.” He pulled out an apple instead, tossing it to the dog, who caught it neatly and crunched it up in its powerful jaws, core and all. 

“That’s all I’ve got,” he said ruefully. “I can’t give you the chocolate. I don’t want to make you sick.” The dog whined pitifully, and he almost relented, but he didn’t want to find out later that Hagrid was upset because someone had fed chocolate to his new pet. 

Glancing around, he noticed a rug in front of the fireplace that looked a lot more comfortable than the benches downstairs in the classroom, and he took Professor Lupin’s scarf off the chair. 

“You should go back out,” he told the dog, pointing to the door. “I’d take you back to Hagrid, but with my luck, Filch would catch me, and then we’d both be in trouble.” 

The dog yipped and sat down, as if to make it clear it wasn’t going anywhere, and Neville smiled as he stretched out on the rug and bunched the scarf beneath his head for a pillow. It smelt nice, like cinnamon and some deeper, warm musk that was unfamiliar but comforting nonetheless, and Neville yawned as he settled in for sleep. The dog stared at him, cocking its head, and he smiled at it. 

“I have to stay here too,” he said. He knew it didn’t understand, but he liked talking to it. Animals and plants never made him feel stupid or inadequate like so many humans did. “I don’t have the password to get in, and no one is around to help me.” 

The dog stared at him for a moment longer, and then it stood and trotted over to him, plopping down next to him on the side not being warmed by the fire and nestling close. Surprised but pleased, Neville pulled out one end of the scarf and tucked it beneath the dog’s head, letting it share the pillow, and the dog rubbed its muzzle against it, releasing a slow, deep sigh. 

Within minutes, they were both asleep, warm and cozy.


End file.
